


Rules, Reckonings, and Redemption

by Phosphell



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blue has actual plot significance, Crack Treated Seriously, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gen, Ghostbur is cool though, Ghostbur lost his memory but does not forget all bad things, Heavy Angst, Humor, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insane Wilbur Soot, Politics, Protective Jschlatt, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), There's a whole shadow war going on here, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Toby Smith | Tubbo Angst, Trauma, Verbal Abuse, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Wilbur Soot, for plot, poor Tommy, villains travel back in time, well he's not good but not evil here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phosphell/pseuds/Phosphell
Summary: Jschlatt, Dream, and Wilbur travel backwards in time.Also known as: A dictator and a tyrant try to outmaneuver each other, Ghostbur has some serious beef with Alivebur, and the kids are not all right.Costarring: Tubbo charming everyone with the sunniest vibes, Niki passively-aggressively selling baked goods, Tommy just going through it, the Dream team being confused and concerned, Fundy failing to address his daddy issues, Technoblade mocking the country, and everyone pointedly ignoring the mounting tensions between the president and the former tyrant of the DreamSMP.Schlatt doesn't know how or why he's given another chance at living, but by Notch does he swear things will change this time. For the better.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Clay | Dream & Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt & Niki | Nihachu, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 101
Kudos: 569





	1. Wilbur, I can’t believe you’ve done this.

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly just a recap chapter, so there isn’t too much dialogue. Not me making a Schlatt POV chapter and mainly writing about Wilbur’s character lol.

“If I die, this country goes down with me!”

He felt lightheaded and dizzy, the room was spinning around him and he supported himself on a wall to stay upright. His chest hurt like someone reached into him and held his heart in a vice-like grip. Or maybe that is just what it feels like to be held at swordpoint by practically everyone in the nation? 

“Surrender now Schlatt. Victory or death!” Wilbur’s voice came from his right, or perhaps his left. He could not tell at this point. Fundy tried to approach him and he hit him with his empty bottle. Several others within arm’s reach were conked as well, and the glass smashed into pieces on their enchanted Netherite armor. He held up the bottle, desperately warding off the circle around him. He was helpless and everyone knew it.

“You know, this is rather sad.” Was Technoblade here too?!

The blood god was here. Oh, he was going to die now. Schlatt giggled. 

Wilbur spoke again, sounding annoyed. “Tommy, do you still have Dream’s crossbow?”

“Yea”

“Put it between his eyes.”

A figure- that he now could recognize as Tommyinnit- raised his crossbow and pointed it right at his head. He quickly staggered backward, away from imminent death. He didn't want to die, no. Not like this. His back hit someone behind him, and he turned a bit too quickly towards them, seeing a familiar face.

“Flatty Patty?”

The pain in his chest flared, and he had an excellent view of Quackity’s expression changing from cold anger to shock as his legs folded under him and the world went black. The voices around him panicked, but they sounded distant to him, and he closed his eyes as the pain faded into weariness. The bone-deep weariness trickled into nothingness.

And suddenly, everything came back into focus. He blinked in surprise, feeling like he had woken from a refreshing nap, then noticed his eyesight was better than before. In fact, he seemed healthier in general. Nothing hurt, for some reason he didn’t feel any fear or anxiety, and he had full sobriety to enjoy it. Then it hit him where he was.

“I’m standing in Wilbur’s shady little drug van! How the hell am I still here?!”

He opened the door to leave the empty van, then nearly fell face-first on the grass outside as his hand went straight through the wooden door. 

He stared at his hand and the door, stunned. Then he finally looked down. His own corpse was laying at his feet, face twisted in one last sardonic smile.

It was really fortunate that no one could hear the ghost’s scream.

In hindsight, Schlatt would admit that his death was greatly ironic. Having a heart attack in the same van which the country was founded in, drunk off his ass and surrounded by everyone who he had driven away? Even he felt there was something karmic about it. 

While he was hovering, Fundy passed by him but did not react in any way. So he was invisible, huh? He stayed near his body for several minutes, unsure about what to do now that he was dead. After that, staring at his own corpse started to get boring. _What, it is not like the body will get up and walk away._ He wanted to do something else. Mind made up, he tailed behind the fox-eared spy to see the fallout of the rebels’ victory

Seeing Tubbo become the president was a bit of a surprise. Though he mostly kept him around to try and manipulate him and the exiles, the kid was competent and functioned well as a right-hand man. He kept things in order and has some experience in organization and governance. Plus, everyone not-bowing to Tommy was hilarious.

Technoblade committing terrorism right after was a given. _Come on, the man was an anarchist._ They could have at least waited for the piglin to leave before putting someone new in charge. He took some pleasure in their screams. It felt good to see his enemies suffer, after all the paranoia and betrayal.

Wilbur going batshit insane was definitely unexpected. 

“There was a special place, where men could go and emancipate the brutality and tyranny of their rulers~”

He had followed the rebels and watched the presidency be handed through several people before finally reaching Tubbo. During the speech, the ex-president had appeared shifty and pale, and took the first opportunity of distraction to slip away. He followed him of course, and found himself behind the podium in an empty gray room full of a mad scrawl of song lyrics and ominous messages, watching the man have some kind of breakdown.

Schlatt hated Wilbur. 

The sky was blue, the sun rose every morning, and Jebediah Schlatt hated Wilbur Soot.

Don't get him wrong, they were friends once. Wilbur was charisma and ambition and broken rules, and Schlatt, younger and quieter, followed him with awe. They were similar in their ways. Both were bright and manipulative kids who were not above cheating others to get ahead. But there was one reason that he stayed with him for so long.

Above all else, Wilbur had vision. It was what drew them to each other, both wanting to be great in a world they saw as dreary and complacent with the bare minimum. _He might have actually made a good president,_ Schlatt thought bitterly. Wilbur had more vision than him, always looking ahead, seeing endless possibilities in every investment and action, to the point where he would forget the people around him. It was burned into his brain, every single instance where Wilbur had broken his boundaries or left him behind. 

He remembered when Wilbur smashed the plank and glass walls, the sharp wood and glass raining and the water pouring in, and Schlatt knew he had told him that he will stay there because _he can’t swim._ He remembered crouching in a single wooden hole as magma slowly rose around him, the wood becoming hotter and hotter, and no matter where he looked Wilbur wasn’t anywhere around him. He remembered Wilbur towering into the sky, leaving him behind as he crouched under an overhang, dynamite raining from the sky and destroying everything. _Always leaving him behind._

_Wilbur always loved his dynamite, I should have expected this._

And after every single experience, Wilbur would just laugh and smile, as though nothing had happened, and expected him to be the same. He ran off, started his own country, then called him after years asking whether he wanted to come. When Schlatt exiled him, that decision was almost completely out of personal spite.

He would bet all his SclattCoin that the man’s weakness played a part in the creation of L’manburg. Wilbur looked at Tommy and Tubbo and saw the potential warriors and defenders they could be, not as what they are: children. He never saw anything wrong with manipulating child soldiers, sending them to fight and bleed and die for him.

He never expected to lose the election, and being exiled completely blindsided him. In a single moment, all of the potential, the endless possibilities of what he could make L’manburg into collapsed into a single point.

_Survive._

And the next time he tried to look ahead, he could not see the glory and freedom that he had when L’manburg first rose. _That was what probably did him in_ , Schlatt thought.

“The thing I built this nation for doesn't exist anymore! The thing I worked towards doesn’t exist anymore. It’s all- it’s all gone.”

In hindsight, he was right. Wilbur had vision.

“Are you really going to do this?” Philza had come from another server after hearing of the chaos.

He hesitated, withdrawing from the button. A blast of fireworks sounded, and the ghost cringed. The ex-president heard it too and studied the button with renewed conflict.

Wilbur shook his head and switched back to his song. “A very big place...that is blown up, my L’manberg~”

“Are you seriously going to do this?” He floated above him, “You killed me to have this country, and now you're going to blow it up right after?!” But Wilbur could not hear him, and even if he did, there was no stopping him. He grinned, madness swirling in his eyes.

“My L’manburg!”

_*click_

Phil leaped into action, protecting Wilbur from the explosion as the cavern of the wall shattered and flames spread from the igniting TNT. Schlatt covered his face with an arm, despite his incorporeal nature. Debris flew right through him but shredded Phil’s right wing. In the distance, Technoblade’s laughter echoed as the citizens of L’manburg cried out in shock and agony. Two withers rained explosions of violet flames, killing and destroying the city, and for a short time, anarchy reigned supreme. Schlatt felt grateful that he was already dead.

After several respawns, a hard-fought battle, and Technoblade committing mass genocide, the withers had been slain. The blood god had left, the dictator had died, and L’manburg may be wrecked but its people were still standing. As the dust settled, a large crater cut into the center of the country. Everyone was tired and sad but hopeful for a better future. 

“Your hope is disgusting.” he said, “It will only get worse from here on out.” No one heard him.

Everyone gathered near the L’mantree, _which Schlatt didn’t even know was a thing before now_ , and Tommy placed a music block and played a song for all the people gathered. There will be more conflict in their futures, but not yet. As Cat’s notes permeated the air, Tommy said to Dream “In the end, it's always us against you. You can never separate us, and that’s why we are better than you. We fight for a good cause.”

“The same cause Wilbur fought for?”

Tommy glared at Dream’s mask. “Just leave us alone.”

“Ok then.”

As he walked away, Dream tossed one last stick of TNT into their house. The front of the house was blown to pieces.

Tommy scowled. “Man, he’s such a bitch.”

“Green is such an ugly color too,” Tubbo added.

Schlatt found himself agreeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next POV: Schlatt, with a recap of season 2 (exile, kidnappings, Dream, and doomsday)  
>   
> The time travel part is coming up don’t worry.


	2. That green man is kind of a dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (kind of but not exactly) Re-cap of season two, so there still isn't that much dialogue. I changed some things, but that is for drama and the only effect would be on the time travelers. Also, where did all of you come from? There are so many views for one chapter 0-0. I can't believe I've wasted the time of 1000 people.

For the next few days, the country was slowly rebuilding. Schlatt took this time to explore the extent of his abilities as a ghost. He had tried to influence the living, to no avail. He had complete invisibility and intangibility like he was only a spectator that could only observe and not interact with the world and he found that ghosts could transverse between the three dimensions. He once sneezed and ended up in the End. Interesting day, that. 

Despite the other ghost’s inability to perceive him, Schlatt hung around Ghostbur for a while. The childish ghost did not make him think of his former friend, and the reactions people had to him were amusing. All the people that Wilbur hurt had trouble taking out their pain and anger on this innocent ghost, who did not even know what he did wrong.

“Oh, he’s dead.” Fundy’s lack of reaction at his father’s death seemed pretty telling. The fox immediately turned his attention to a poster nearby and cheerfully pretended that the ghost wasn’t right next to him. Yikes.

Ghostbur had also visited several other people, such as Tubbo and Tommy. Even after his apparent memory loss, he was more open with Schlatt’s right hand man than he was with his own son. Double yikes.

“Tubbo, was I a bad person?”

Tubbo considered it, then rebutted. “You definitely did more good than wrong, you are just missing a few important facts.”

Well, that certainly was one way to put it. He got a good laugh from how quickly Ghostbur shut down Tubbo’s explanation when he learned that he lost the election.

A few days later, he noticed Niki approach Ghostbur and tagged along. The ghost floated down into the flower field to meet her. “Hello there.”

“Hey Ghostbur”, she said faintly. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet, but you have a grave now. It is in the former dynamite room.”

“They made Alivebur a grave? I thought nobody liked him.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “That is not true.”

The ghost tilted his head, and Niki proceeded to explain. “It’s a nice grave- Philza took your old coat and hung it on the grave marker. It’s inside so it won’t get wet and rained on, and someone brought flowers- I think it was Tubbo?”

“That’s very nice. Thank you for telling me, pretty lady.”

“Do you...not remember my name.”

“No, I don’t recall.” He gave her a kind smile. “Have we met before?”

Niki ran off. Ghostbur gave her a confused look, before being distracted by the flowers around him. Schlatt watched her duck behind a tree and cry silently, as the realization that she was not important enough for him to remember slowly sank in.

It was no longer funny.

The residents had built him a grave too, surprisingly. He was grateful that they at least did not leave him to rot in the drug van, even if the funeral had been a bit too...celebratory. At least, he was grateful up until the point where Quackity ran off with his skin and the other participants started doing a dance skit with his bones.

Schlatt would like to note that seeing his vice-president eating his heart and crying is the absolute worst way to discover someone had feelings for you. He would be staying far, far away from Quackity in the future.

Tommy found a new resident of the country - Ranboo, a traveler that had come from the nether- to help him grief George’s house because the man had slept through a whole war. Schlatt did not think it was the smartest thing to do just following a revolution, but he had to admit the mildly offensive signposts everywhere were a nice touch. The mushroom embedded house was slightly singed at the end. Tommy made a joke with Ranboo about expecting George not to know that his house was on fire since he couldn’t see the red flames.

The teenager did not expect the extent of Dream’s reaction.

Dream pointed a sword at Tommy. “You have to learn that your actions have consequences.” Tommy glared at him, pulling out a crossbow. “You want to go another round, Dream? I’m more than ready.”

Schlatt floated above them. “C’mon kid, stop antagonizing him.”, he hissed. “You won’t be able to win.”

Tubbo stepped between them. “Tommy, stop it!” He held up a hand placatingly. “Is there any way that you just let him off? The damage isn’t that bad.”

Dream’s creepy, expressionless mask swerved to the child president. “No. He has gotten away with too much since the first disk war.”

“We- we can settle this on the holy ground, instead of fighting. There has been enough fighting.”

Dream agreed, and the meeting for Tommy’s punishment was arranged. Schlatt watched them apprehensively.

From what he had seen, there were only two things in the world that Dream cared about his power and his friends.

Tommy managed to check off both in one blow.

For all that the citizens of L’manburg seem to fear Dream, never understanding his motives for opposing them and his reason for playing all sides, Schlatt found it blindingly obvious. In fact, Dream said it himself, when he watched the nation burn the first time around.

“I just want chaos. That’s why I was satisfied surrendering.”

He watched as the meeting fell into disarray as Tommy punched Dream, then threatened him with burning his horse Spirit’s remains. Tommy desperately tried to turn the tides of the discussion into his favor, vehemently protesting against being barred from the country he had sacrificed his disks to create. He flailed with the apparent control he had over the tyrant, trying to convince his childhood friend that they had the upper hand. Schlatt saw the tyrant’s hands clench into fists under the table.

“For the first time, _we_ have power over _him_.”

Dream stood abruptly and left the round table. Two cabinet members high on power and a concerned president followed him. Schlatt cringed. No way will the tyrant give in so easily.

Dream was a megalomaniac, reveling in his own power and influence over others. The mysterious masked chessmaster in a lime hood watches from the distance, manipulating his friends and foes alike to bend to his will. When a country was established on what he considered his territory, he saw it as a crack in his power and influence, a loss of rightful control. So as long as Dream has any say-

“L’manburg can be independent, but L’manburg will never be free.”

Dream completely overreacted to Tommy’s action, not because it was a bad thing to do, but because he saw it as an affront to his power and influence. It was mistake- a rather stupid one, ultimately not harmful- but most of all it was something that Dream could directly fault Tommy for, an excuse he could use to attack the government of L’manburg. And that he did. He gave the committee an ultimatum: exile Tommy, or he will lock down the entire country and have the people around him slaughter all who tried to escape. The walls which had been torn down during Schlattt’s presidency will be rebuilt into a cold obsidian cage. 

In the end, was there any other choice?

Tubbo defected from the others’ consensus and exiled Tommy himself. It was the right decision, but a painful one for everyone involved. The president looked at them sadly.

“Dream, please detain and escort Tommy out of my country.”

Dream put a hand on Tommys shoulder, and Tommy shook him off. He looked at his best friend, upset betrayal in every line of his face. “Don’t you dare become the next Schlatt.”

Both Schlatt and Tubbo flinched.

Tubbo’s eyes shimmered, and the ghost was surprised he didn’t cry. But the kid’s voice was level. “I won’t if you don’t become the next Willbur.”

_We really screwed them up, didn’t we Wilbur?_

In the following months, Schlatt shadowed the children as both of them suffered in their respective positions. He had no reason for doing this. He did not feel bad for them. Not at all.

He was also a liar.

He never really had anything against Tommy when he exiled the boy, and he had anticipated Tubbo’s betrayal. They were pawns of Wilbur, in his eyes. He simply hurt them because their loyalty did not belong to him. They were just collateral damage, nothing more. Two children, dragged into a war they had no place being a part of, then when they finally had a safe space away from the battles in a new country, he came right along, exiling one and killing the other.

Schlatt buried his face in his hands. _What had he been thinking_?

He didn’t think, that was the problem. He was motivated by revenge, pushing away anyone who cared or looked up to him, taking control and making radical decisions too quickly. He exiled Wilbur. He exiled Tommy. He taxed Niki until she fled. He drove away Quackity, who stayed by him even as everyone else already gave up. Fundy...he had trouble reading him, but the fox’s admiration of him during the campaign of Coconut 2020 had been genuine. 

He had Tubbo, his own right-hand man, publicly executed. Tubbo, who had worked harder than anyone to make sure the festival turned out wonderful, who looked happy for his victory before he had exiled the boy’s best friend. 

_Tubbo is such a good kid._

He looked at the world with bright eyes and showed kindness to everyone around him. That brightness was faded and dull when he watched his best friend taken away on his command.

_He was just collateral damage._

“There’s nothing that I could do about it now, it’s too late.”

He could not make up for the horrible things he did, and watching the children suffer at this point would just be emotionally masochistic. He watched over them anyway.

Tommy had been taken away to a clearing far away from the country, to a place that he and Ghostbur called Logstedshire. He spent the boat ride curled into himself, seemingly shell-shocked at what happened while Dream hummed cheerfully. Once they were distant enough from L’manburg, the tyrant docked the boat and told Tommy that he could make a home for himself. But that was not before he had taken all of Tommy’s armor, supplies, and food, and burned everything in front of the kid. 

Ghostbur tried to console him, not that it did much good. The cheerful ghost could not seem to understand the betrayal and pain that Tommy experienced. All he managed was to repetitively highlight the loneliness that plagued the boy. 

Every few days, Dream would come over and destroy any scrap of comfort that the boy managed to craft. When Dream had originally come to him and offered to supply him with netherite and supplies to crush the Pogtopia rebellion, Schlatt did not think he was a great politician by any means. Now he could see how he managed to hoard so much power for himself without the charisma normally befitting of a leader. While he could not play the masses and twirl public opinion to his favor, the tyrant was very good at manipulating individuals.

One side of Schlatt was impressed by how methodically the tyrant broke down Tommy. The other was disgusted. He stifled the chant of _hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite_ in his thoughts. 

Dream slowly cemented himself as the only other person who could communicate with Tommy. He sent Ghostbur away so that Tommy would be completely dependent on him to have someone to talk to, and used the crippling isolation to break him. He convinced him that no one would care if he died. In Tommy’s eyes, Dream became an oppressor, a friend, and an authority figure all at once. 

The most disturbing part was how much Schlatt saw Dream enjoy his power over the boy when his back was turned. Even if his expression was hidden, Schlatt saw the way his actions would escalate over time and the glee in his voice when Tommy suffered. 

Meanwhile, Quackity had replaced Tommy as the Vice President of L’manburg, while Fundy remained secretary of state. Together, they declared a list of potential threats to L’manburg. The two at the top of the list were Technoblade and Dream. Neither of which they could beat in a fair fight.

Quackity was the first to propose a solution. “I think we should make a deal with Dream to take out Technoblade. There is no way that we can successfully dispose of the blood god otherwise.”

Tubbo tried to object. “I don’t feel like we should owe Dream anything, he doesn’t have our best interests in mind.”

“Would you rather have someone who is neutral or an actual anarchist?”

“I just thought-”

“Do you really care so little for this country to reject a solution just because you hate Dream?”

And that was that.

There was a reason that Schlatt had chosen Quackity as Vice. The man was just as ambitious as he was, and shared a mutual dislike of Wilbur, though his dislike was limited to thinking Wilbur was too idealistic and held too much sway over the populace. Quackity had admitted to being a thief once, and seemed to admire him for managing to gain so much support within a matter of days, despite his reputation as a con-man. He also admitted to liking his well-pressed suit.

When Tubbo became president, he demoted Quackity from the vice-presidential position. Quackity, the man would not even be satisfied with being anything less than the president. No doubt that played some part in the man’s decision to defect to Pogtopia. Now that he had his position back, he could finally do what he wanted, which includes peace for L’manburg and power for himself, at any cost. Quackity’s manipulation was more targeted and subtle than his own, not that he had really tried too hard when he was alive. Too much alcohol in his system to really work his charm, but eh.

Though Quackity did not have the same intent to harm Tubbo as Dream did to Tommy, he could still see the effects. The vice talked down to Tubbo and accused him of being a dictator, a terrible president, of being _like Schlatt_ whenever their opinions didn’t align.

And Tubbo conceded, backing off and choosing to compromise instead of argue. It was ingrained into him by Wilbur and Schlatt. He allowed Quackity to take control of his subordinates and followed along with the Vice’s “suggestions.” He did not defect from Quackity’s influence because Quackity was not technically his enemy, and had not done anything extreme enough for Tubbo to hate him for. 

He became little more than a figurehead for Quackity and the cabinet. This continued until the end of the nation itself. 

Though Schlatt mainly watched over the two boys, he occasionally checked the other people on the Dreamsmp. While wandering around, he encountered Badboyhalo and Skeppy, members of the Badlands faction, as they had a whispered discussion about “the egg”, whatever that was. He followed them into a cavern system and discovered what they were hiding. A glowing egg, far larger than the ender dragon’s egg, sat in the edge of the massive stone room, surrounded by the foliage of the Nether. Or at least, what had originally appeared to be plants of Nether origin. Corrupted crimson light pulsed from the strange thing. 

Schlatt reached out to touch the disgusting-rotted-creepy-mysterious-hypnotic-beautiful egg, feeling a detached sense of bliss as his left hand phased through the hard shell, and reached out to the warm energy of the core as it wrapped around his arm and pulled-

He yelped as he backpedaled, ripping his arm from the egg. What a dirty, slimy feeling, as if the egg had stabbed his arm with straws and sucked his soul out. He shivered and looked at his arm. The light blue of his sweater had melted into nothing, and his arm was tinged with dark stripes. He eyed the egg with fear. It had influenced his mind, had managed to damage a ghost.

He was not touching the corruption again. The mindless crimson Skeppy that Bad led through L’manburg, crying as he tried to get his best friend to remember him, only cemented his choice. _Whatever that crimson is, it spells bad news for this server._

Tommy seemed to have developed a strange attraction to the nether, spending far more time than was healthy in the Hellish dimension. It seemed that the dead silence of his surroundings only made his mental health worse, and exacerbated whatever trauma he had experienced at the hands of Dream, Wilbur, and himself. Schlatt often heard him cry and scream into the silence during the dead of night, calling for his former friends. Sometimes the dreams featured darker things that have not happened, haunting nightmares that seemed to be about Dream killing him, Lmanburg burning as people laughed, being exiled only to be shot down before he could move. 

He would spend hours sitting precariously above lava, staring with his head tilted as if listening to a song. Each time he did this, Tommy would scoot a little close to the edge, the sheer cliffs he stood on a little bit more unstable. It freaked Schlatt out. One of those days, he tried to jump.

“Gah, stop! You aren’t in your right mind right now!” Schlatt tried to stand in front of Tommy, but the boy walked right through him.

He tried to pull on the boy’s arms and had never wished so much to be corporal. “Tommy, stop it. Your friends still care about you. They would be shattered by your death.”

Tommy did not pay any attention to his surroundings. His eyes were glazed. _Tunnel vision_ , Schlatt thought, _He probably isn’t aware of anything except the lava_. He tried to snap the boy out of it, in vain. It wasn’t someone else came up to them did Tommy finally snap from his trance. 

Dream grabbed him by the shoulder, and this time Tommy let him. “It isn’t your time.” Yet, went unsaid, but Tommy did not react to the unspoken word.

“It’s never my time.”

They left the Nether together, with Dream’s arm slung around Tommy’s emaciated frame. Dream forbade Tommy from going back to the Nether, to Schlatt’s unfortunate relief. This restriction seemed to be the final straw for Tommy, even though he nodded along meekly to Dream’s words. He was covered in dirt and ash, lonely beyond belief, and hadn’t truly eaten in days. Schlatt thought it was a wonder he didn’t flee sooner. 

Tommy grabbed whatever he could around him and ran. He ran and ran away from Logstedshire and Dream’s abuse, away from L’manburg, who cast him out again. He ran until he could only walk, and walked until he fell. They ended up in a snowy tundra, Schlatt panicking while Tommy dazedly watched the snowflakes fall onto his face.

“Please, please, for the love of Notch, don’t go to sleep, it’s too cold here.”

Tommy looked at him, but for the first time, Schlatt knew he could see. The boy smiled. “No, why do you think it's cold? It doesn’t feel cold.”

He had stopped trembling. Schlatt was not a doctor, but he knew that was a bad sign in the freezing tundra. He tried to touch him, to push him to his feet, but Tommy didn’t get up. He could do nothing but watch the boy die.

“It’s so warm…”

It took two days for Technoblade to find the body.

At the same time, Tubbo stood at the base of Logsteadshire, looking up at the tower in the original camp. 

His voice was hollow. “No...surely not. Tommy wouldn’t do this.” 

“Would he?”

This was the tipping point. Tubbo had dealt with just as much Tommy. He was not happy with his position, with the way the country was moving, he glared at the hit list every time he passed it in the white house. But nothing hit him as hard as the apparent suicide of his best friend, and he blamed himself for Tommy’s death. He stopped showing up to his job, stopped getting out of bed in the mornings where he woke up with tears streaking down his face. 

He checked the compass but it kept spinning. 

A few weeks later, Technoblade abducted a member of L’manburg, Connor, and threatened to kill him in exchange for a trade: The president in exchange for Connor’s life. The poor man was incredibly confused, but Tubbo gave in without any prompting, despite the protests of the cabinet. So quickly, in fact, that Technoblade actually looked concerned and tried to rescind his threat. He had obviously not expected it to be so successful.

Fundy tried to protest, but Quackity silenced him, saying that Tubbo did nothing for the country anyway. Plus, Techno would not kill the president, but would harm Connor.

While Technoblade took him away to his carbon in the ice and snow, Tubbo asked him: why the trade?

“Because I don’t think Tommy would forgive me if I killed you again.”

“So, that’s it? He’s really dead?” Tubbo’s voice cracked.

“I’m sorry.”

Tubbo began to cry.

Dream, who was lurking near Techno’s house, smirked when he saw that they were together. “Cool, you actually got him? Does that mean we can move on with the plan then?” When Techno nodded, he bounced in excitement. “Great!”

Together, Dream and Technoblade combined their withers, battle prowess, and hoarded technology to destroy L’manburg. Philza came along too, to Schlatt’s surprise, desiring the country be destroyed because it took two people that he loved. Philza, who despite his calmer and more passive attitude, showed the citizens of L’manburg why even Technoblade respected him. It wasn’t even a fight. They razed the small country all the way down to bedrock.

_This feels like a worst-case scenario._

Ranboo, who had visited Tommy a few times before Dream tightened his control, dug himself a small hole and had a panic attack. Niki, one of the most loyal, burned the L’mantree. Fundy hissed at anyone who approached him. Everyone else was digging through the ruins, trying to find anyone alive in the devastation. Dream was nowhere to be seen. 

Schlatt closed his eyes. He may have hated some of the citizens, hated L’manburg, but even he would not wish this upon them. So much pain and destruction, and for what? He left the wreckage but gasped when a foreign voice spoke in his head.

_Three entities have completed the advancement [The End]_

_Initializing transfer…_

Schlatt collapsed onto his knees for the second time in so many months, crying out as his heart seized. Ghosts should not be able to die again, he thought, but he was dying. The same tight searing pain in his chest dragged at his extremities and numbed them, and he vaguely registered his incorporeal form sinking into the ground. Was this the end? Was he falling to hell?

_Transfer complete._

He awoke panting on a bed, hand clutching his chest. After counting his breaths and generally calming down a little, he sat up, trying to get his bearings after the painful nightmare, before several things hit him at once. He was sitting on a bed. He was sitting on a bed. He had a body!

Schlatt reached over and clicked on the lamp next to his bed out of habit, and looked around. He was wearing his nightclothes in a bedroom within the white house. His blankets were rumpled from his panicking and one pillow had been kicked across the room. He rummaged around for the communicator and checked the date. 

It was September 23rd, one day after he had become president of L’manburg, one day after he had exiled Tommy Innit and Wilbur Soot. He stared at the date, uncomprehending.

“What the fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next POV: confused Tubbo
> 
> Now the fun truly begins :)


	3. A dyslexic was hired to do paperwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo POV: Schlatt is still a manipulative bastard, just one that cares about Tubbo a little more. (Tubbo does not notice the extent that Schlatt is doing it though.) This will have repercussions, of course. Also, I don't ship ccs, any hint is for purely comedic purposes: aka poor Quackity will not have his affections returned. This chapter is a little shorter, and not a very angsty one, but don't fret. Bad things are in store. :)

Tubbo was dreading going to the white house. Originally, he was ecstatic at the thought of being in such a high position in the country, but that excitement was immediately tainted with fear at the thought of facing Schlatt after yesterday. 

_Well, it’s not like he can just run away or quit now._

He braced himself and made his way to the building, glowing brightly in the sun. As he was walking, someone bumped his shoulder, and he jumped a whole foot in the air.

“Whoa whoa calm down there, no need to be so high strung.” The vice president, Quackity, cheerfully hopped beside him, looking amused.

“I'm not worried!” His voice cracked. Quackity raised an eyebrow. “Oh really. There’s no reason to be that scared of the president, even if he is scary.”

Tubbo blinked. “But didn’t you just say he’s scary? And plus, he doesn’t terrify me that much.”

“Well, I think he’s scary in a kind of sexy way.”

“Really, Quackity?”

“What, it’s my opinion! People can have opinions.”

They bantered all the way to the white house. When they opened the doors, they found that Schlatt was already dressed in his immaculate well-pressed suit and red tie, waiting for them. On closer look, the President seemed rather unkempt, at least by his own standards. His hair curling messily and there were bags under his eyes. They stood to attention.

The ram hybrid sighed and turned to face them. “I suppose I owe you two now, since you guys are going to be my cabinet. Tubbo especially.”

“What, no no, you don’t owe us anything”, Tubbo said, surprised that the business-minded man would spring this out of nowhere. 

“Great. I would like my compensation in cold hard cash and drugs.” Quackity retorted.

Schlatt snorted, but his amused expression fell flat. “I meant an explanation. I should explain why I exiled our rival candidates.” he glanced at Tubbo. “You were close to them after all. I should make my actions clear to you.”

“I wanted him exiled too, so you can blame us both, Tubbo. Sorry, but I still think it was the right decision.”

He blinked in surprise. From Tubbo’s point of view, Jschlatt was the one who actually gave the speech, and held the reins when called for Wilbur and Tommy to be exiled. They had already won the election, so there was no reason for them to exile his friends. It was a joint decision? He felt a new sense of wariness towards the chaotic Vice-president. 

“Yea, I wanted to address my reasons, cause they are different from yours.” The ram frowned. “It’s because- no, I should put it this way- Quackity, why did you want to exile him? We should get your opinion on this topic too.”

It was an obvious deflection but Tubbo was also interested in Quackity’s explanation, so he didn’t point that out. Tommy and Quackity got along really well in the way that petroleum and fire did, so Tubbo did not think they had any true conflicts.

Quackity seemed to realize the seriousness of the situation, and dropped his usual joking manner. “I don’t think Wilbur is a good leader.”

Seeing Tubbo’s stricken face and Schlatt’s lack of reaction, the Vice took it as an opening to keep speaking.

“He’s too idealistic and unstable. The man started a country out of a drug van, and although I respect that, he does not seem inclined to...actual politics and management of a nation. From our interactions as rivals for office, Soot was sure beyond a single doubt that he would win this “democratic election”, and when I made a quip about friendly competition, he had told Tommy not to worry because “no one will vote for that clown”. Quackity threw his hands in the air. “As if I wasn’t right there, ese maldito bastardo! ¡Puede ir a chupar pollas porque yo obtuve más del treinta por ciento de los votos!”

“You really did clutch man, thirty percent is a substantial part of the electorate. Thanks for pooling your votes with me, I couldn't have won otherwise.”

“Wait, you understood that?!” Quackity gaped. He quickly got a hold of himself and continued.

“Wilbur’s dangerous. He has too much sway over the populace due to being the primary founder of Manburg, and I think he would try to take the presidency even if he lost. And even if he was making a joke, which I wouldn’t have minded, he genuinely believed I was incompetent, even after learning about my law degree.”

“I didn’t like his vibes, but I admit that exiling him for being condescending may be a little too petty.” Quackity shifted, uncomfortable under their gaze as his rant trailed off into nothing.

Schlatt finally spoke. “I mean, he had it coming for being rude.”

“He may have been rude but that’s no reason to kick Wilbur out of the country he founded. And Tommy doesn’t deserve it either. He actually respected and liked you both!” Tubbo kept from fidgeting when they both stared at him, surprised by his sudden defense. He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands, _Oh, why did he have to say that, Schlatt’s totally going to kick him out too._

To his shock, the ram didn’t even berate him for the outburst. Schlatt sighed. “Well, Quackity, your instincts aren’t wrong. As for Tubbo, I understand your opinion, because once upon a time I would have defended him the same way. You see, this is my reason for exiling them.”

“Wilbur and I go way back. We were childhood friends.”

Tubbo’s eyes widened and Quackity’s jaw dropped. Well, that was unexpected. 

“I don’t want to be specific, I’m biased against him anyway. Wilbur does have the good makings of a leader, but that is limited to his charisma and cunning. I would know, we did everything together. Unlike me, he has no experience in governing people, in the economy, in politics. He’s just a musician whose ambition got the better of him.”

He put a hand up to stop Tubbo, who tried to protest.

“I’m not saying the man isn’t smart, Wilbur’s plenty intelligent. He’s just a bit too greedy, to the point where he tends to forget to care about the people around him. He uses all the people who love him, that he should love back, as pawns to gather more influence and power.”

“I would know.” This time the words were infused with so much bitterness that it could only come from experience. Neither the Vice nor Secretary could find anything to say to that. Schlatt broke from his memory-induced reverie and addressed Quackity.

“I would like to speak to my right-hand. Alone.”

Quackity nodded, and sent Tubbo an encouraging nod. He watched him leave the room, silently screaming for him to come back. He didn’t want to be in the same room with Schlatt alone, he didn’t know what to say or do.

“...should probably pass a law on cannibalism.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved that strange statement off. 

The ram leaned in, and Tubbo wanted to back away from his intense focus.

“I don’t have anything against Tommy personally. If anything, the fact that I kicked him out too is a testament to his character. From what I’ve seen, Tommy Innit is absolutely loyal to his elder brother, and while loyalty is a good trait, it can be harmful if directed by the wrong people.”

_He believes that Wilbur is the “wrong person”._

“I may have made a mistake, you know. That boy shouldn’t be punished on the account of someone else. If Tommy were to revoke his brother and choose to value the safety of Manburg over the whims of Wilbur, then I’ll welcome him back with open arms. But until then, he poses a risk against us.”

Schlatt put an arm around his shoulder. “I had to exile him. You understand, right? For the good of the country and its citizens.”

Tubbo nodded faintly. He had a lot to think about. Schlatt could be lying about knowing Wilbur, and he wouldn't put it past him. He wouldn’t abandon Tommy and Wilbur, his best friend and his leader. He will find a way to help them, and until then he had to stay in the ram’s good graces. _But what if he was telling the truth?_

He needed to think about this. 

Schlatt straightened up and clapped his hands together. “Well, now that you are the secretary of state, you need an overview of your responsibilities. Come with me! Did Wilbur ever tell you anything about this position?”

“No, sir. I was mostly just moral support.” It was true. Tubbo never exactly got the chance to gain any political experience, considering that the country was only founded recently, and most of it was spent trying not to be attacked by the Dream team.

“Well, that’s just a waste! C’mon kid, let me show you the ropes, I’m sure you would make an excellent right-hand man.”

Tubbo followed Schlatt as he showed him through the White house, the ram gesturing at every attraction in its walls. He explained parts of the white-house’s history and symbolism he knew, and for what he didn’t, concocted a series of increasingly outrageous scenarios.

“And this,” he pointed at an innocuous chicken egg in the corner of the room, “this must be Quackity’s influence, from when he committed grand larceny and left his mark forever entrapped within the marble walls!”

Tubbo couldn’t keep from laughing. “It could be an ancient artifact passed down to him, from generation to generation.”

Schlatt grinned. “Exactly!”

Tubbo smiled back despite his confusion. This Schlatt was so friendly, yet he knew that he didn’t imagine the cruel smile on his face yesterday when he exiled his friends, his tight, nearing painful grip on his shoulder when the man told him to send them away. Was this version of Schlatt a mask? Or was it the manic man who laughed in Wilbur’s face as he was struck by an arrow, proudly calling himself a dictator?

The shift gave him a bit of whiplash. Tubbo didn’t know what to make of him.

“So...your job as the Secretary of state consists of foreign affairs, which include treaties, trade deals with neighboring villages, introducing and settling any new citizens, and you also have ambassadorial duties in the case of diplomatic missions.”

That sounded like something he could do. But wasn’t an ambassador kind of useless in this situation?

“Schlatt, we don’t have any neighboring villages. And the only treaty we have at the moment is with Dream, and that treaty was already established a while ago.”

The ram gave him an excessively cheerful smile. “In the case where a Secretary of State completes their other duties, they will aid the President in his management of the Nation.”

_Wait a minute._

“Did you hire me just to do your paperwork?!”

The ram said nothing, but his expression confirmed it.

“Schlatt, I’m dyslexic!”

“Don’t worry Tubbo, I wouldn’t have hired you if you weren’t capable. With some practice, I’m sure you even can run the government by yourself.” There was something almost regretful in the man’s tone. “When you have difficulties, you could just come over and I’ll help. We’ll be working in the same building after all.”

Tubbo was floored. People always treated his dyslexia like it made him incapable, but apparently Schlatt either did not know how much he would have to help him or he did and thought that Tubbo could actually work well in spite of it. It felt nice.

“Thank you sir, I will do my very best.”

Schlatt reached over, and Tubbo froze when he felt a hand ruffle his hair. He stood there for a second, letting the man’s warm hand curl in his hair, before pulling away awkwardly. 

“I-I have to leave. I forgot something at my house.”

The President watched him for a few moments, calculating. Tubbo belatedly realized that he was probably wondering whether or not he would contact Tommy and internally cringed.

“Alright.”

“I’m not going to visit- wait I can go?”

“Yeah, don’t be long.”

He left the white house in a daze, processing everything he just learned. 

_Schlatt believed that exiling Tommy was a mistake, that means that he might be okay if he came back. Wilbur too, if we can make him promise not to do anything extreme. I can still fix this situation._ He entered his house a lot calmer than he left it, picking up a few random trinkets and blocks so that he had the excuse of actually retrieving things from his house.

If Tubbo thought he saw a flash of yellow in the corner of his eye, he paid no attention to it. He blinked, and it was gone. He shook his head and walked onward, telling himself that he could have just been imagining it, it has been a weird day after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next POV: Ghostbur's take on everything
> 
> I'm very sorry, but updates may be spotty and I won't check this fic often. I have over 6 online Advanced Placement classes, and this year has been not great. at all. I'm so stressed, oh my god why am I working on this instead of school. I hate being a high school junior and I hate Covid.


	4. How to hate yourself, but with spice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur POV let's gooooooo. Sad ghost accidentally sends three people back in time, nearly commits murder, makes a deal he might regret.

Ghostbur was the specter of Wilbur Soot, and he was an innocent and childlike ghost that didn’t understand what was happening around him.

He first appeared several days after Wilbur’s death, oblivious to everything he had done. He only recalled the good things that happened in his life, and the memories which gave him happiness. As such, he was incredibly naive. He flitted along in the burning city, humming pleasantly to himself and stopping every so often to talk to the people he saw.

_Such unique and interesting people live here. I don’t recognize all of them. But even if I had forgotten, I could meet them all over again! It’s like a whole new adventure._

He didn’t know everyone in his country of L’manburg, but it seemed that everyone knew of him. When they saw him, they had the most interesting reactions. Their faces scrunched up and they started breathing heavily and some were so overwhelmed they cried. He made sure to greet everyone he came across.

He ignored the instinctual feeling in the back of his mind that they were not happy to see him. He caused pain and sorrow and fear and betrayal to all around him. He ignored that feeling. Denial was a stage of grief, after all, and he grieved the memories that he could not reach and the hurt that Wilbur had created around him.

He originally hung around his son for a while, but Fundy was obviously upset by his presence, to the point of snapping at him on several occasions, even when he kept quiet and didn’t bother him. 

“Why are you mad at me Fundy? Is it the fish jokes again?”

“No it’s not the fish jokes Soot!”

“Is it the-”

“It’s not the teasing about being a furry either! God, I don’t want to talk to you. Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Fundy at least tell me why you are upset. Relationships can’t work without good communication! Tell me why, pleaseee.”

The fox scoffed. “Fine, if you are so desperate to know why.” He ruffled through his pack and handed him an innocuous brown paperback book titled A Spy’s Dairy. “Will you leave me alone now?” Seeing Ghostbur’s nod, the fox relaxed slightly. Ghostbur left the building with his son’s secret book, which filled in some of the recent gaps in his memory.

This was how Ghostbur first learned that he was a terrorist.

Ghostbur was the specter of Wilbur Soot, who used to be a disillusioned and insane man.

“Hello Tommy!” The ghost waved at the bedraggled teen. Tommy’s face went through a series of emotions before settling on a smile that was a bit off. 

“Hey there big man, what are you doing here.”

“I’m here to help you build your house You don’t have a vacation house since Tubbo sent you away quickly, so we can make one.”

“I don’t need your help!”

“Oh come on Tommy, we could finish the place so much faster if we worked together.

The boy scowled at him. “You aren’t going to leave no matter what, huh.”

“Nope!” Ghostbur chirped.

They spent most of the day clearing out a dirt hole in the ground, big enough to store a few chests and a warm body. While they were digging the ground he noticed that Tommy acted off, similar to the way the other citizens of L’manburg did when he first appeared. Tommy would unconsciously move so that his back was never to the ghost, and crowed as far as possible from the ghost as he could in the claustrophobic underground. That night, he asked Tommy why he behaved strangely around him.

“No, don’t worry about it, it’s stupid”, he laughed loudly “I’m a strong man, I can deal with everything on my own!”

“You can tell me Tommy, I can keep a secret.”

Tommy’s eyes glittered even as he grinned arrogantly, and Ghostbur realized that there were tears in his eyes. It shocked him, since he had never seen, never remembered his younger brother cry before.

“Sometimes-” the boy broke off, coughing. He waited patiently for the boy to speak.

“Sometimes you scare me, Wilbur.” _Ghostbur,_ he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak and break this fragile moment. “I know- you are nothing like him, nothing like Dream either, you’re nice to the point of being absolutely stupid and acting like everyone’s bitch, but still-”

“I don’t like you very much, and I feel kind of bad.”

“Why would you hate me, Tommy? What happened in Pogtopia?” His breath caught in his throat even if he didn’t need the air in his lungs. “What have I done to you?” he whispered in agony.

Tommy was quiet for a long time, but he could not seem to bear the silence. “You always grabbed my arm every time you were anxious that I would leave you, and it hurt just a little,” he said softly.

Ghostbur nodded, not speaking or judging, just listening. It seemed like that was all the boy needed to pour his heart out. _How often does he only yell because no one listens to him?_

For the next several hours, he listened to everything that had plagued the boy, from before the founding of L’manburg to this very moment. He spoke about Eret’s betrayal, how they had trusted the man with their lives and had their trust thrown away at the drop of a coin and the tilt of a worthless golden crown, and the admin of the server with his porcelain mask. He spoke about how he and Tubbo never enjoyed the sight of the country they helped to found, about how he worries that he was too loud, too stubborn, too annoying for his friend to love anymore. He spoke about Wilbur, and how the man dragged him into his schemes and forced him into staying in exile with him, how he egged on Technoblade as the piglin beat him into the ground, about how the TNT room had looked when Wilbur locked him in there during his worst episodes.

It was like Fundy all over again.

By the time he had finished going over all of his experiences, Tommy had exhausted himself emotionally and fell asleep on the hard dirt floor in minutes. Ghostbur, on the other hand, had all night for the revelations to sink in.

Ghostbur was the specter of Wilbur Soot, and he had started to hate the man he used to be.

Dream made him uncomfortable, but he never did anything to Tommy other than mock him. Of course, he was not happy with that, but the boy did not seem to be in any life-threatening danger. The admin was one of the few people that Ghostbur did not interact with post-death, and he tried to keep from judging the man on account of what little he knew about him. 

One day the admin came up to him and handed him a batch of letters. 

“I noticed you were a little uncomfortable around Tommy.”

“Why would I be uncomfortable around my little brother?”

The mask gave none of the admin’s emotions away. “Well that’s what it looks like to me”, Dream shrugged. “I can give you an out, if you’d like. He dropped the batch of letters into Ghostbur’s hands. “Tell Tommy that you’ll be going out.”

Ghostbur loved the boy, he really did, but he did not think that it was healthy for Tommy to be around him anymore. Not after all he learned. Ghostbur would do his best to keep away from him for the rest of his ghostly existence. His brother waved to him as he left, excitedly gazing at the bundle of letters, and Wilbur waved back. 

Ghostbur wandered far away from L’manburg and Logsteadshire, where people would be reminded of their hurt through his presence. Turns out Techno lived in a small cottage core house with his father. Who knew?

Sometimes he was curious about what happened to his country and his remaining family. One of these times, he opened the bundle of letters that Dream had given him. They were just blank pieces of paper with no hint of writing. He tried to abate his curiosity and his longing, as much as possible, but in the end, Ghostbur could not stay away. He went to see his younger brother but found no one.

One week later, Techno carried in a thin, rotting body in a faded red and white shirt.

Ghostbur took one glance at the corpse and screamed. It took hours for Technolade to calm him down, and when he did Wilbur simply shut down and left. He never returned to the peaceful little cottage again. He also could not bear to enter Logstedshire and Lmanburg. He didn’t want to walk this world anymore.

That was how he discovered he could teleport to other dimensions. The End was peaceful and bare, only home to endermen and the endless abyss of space. And Dream, for some fucking reason. 

Every day, the man would come over and build something, bit by bit, a portal more intricate than anything he had ever seen. It had glowstone and multiple ores, and a clear sort of energy film that caught his attention. When Dream was absent from the End, Ghostbur would study the portal.

He touched the swirling clear energy in the portal and watched in wonder as his conflict, his pain faded just a little. The liquid turned into a pretty, sweet blue and crumpled into a melting semi-solid. He picked up the blue, which seemed harmless and ordinary now. He pocketed it; all of L’manburg needed a little therapy, and if his blue made it better, then why not. Apparently, the portal was not supposed to turn blue, and the occurrence annoyed the hell out of the masked admin. As the days progressed and the circumstances of the people he knew grew steadily worse, Ghostbur ended up hanging around the Nether and the End, not wanting to rejoin the upper world.

Wilbur made sure he touched the unfinished portal everyday. Was it petty? Yes. Was it worth it to see Dream rage every time the clear liquid was ruined? Most definitely. Tommy died under him and he deserved at least a few annoyances. He would come back every day and take a little bit of the strange portal.

The last time he had touched the portal it was almost complete. Once again, he stuck his hand into the clear liquid. 

The clear liquid changed to blinding white. 

Ghostbur looked blankly at the portal for a second. That was not supposed to happen. He heard the noise of teleportation nearby and ducked behind a tall obsidian pillar. Dream appeared in the End, frazzled, and fidgeted with random things in the portal. The blinding light continued to get brighter. When he finally gave up on trying to shut off the portal, Dream seemed to realize just how unstable the machine really was. The light within the portal pulsed.

Dream tried to run, but he was not fast enough. The blinding light from the portal hit him straight in the back, and Ghostbur didn’t even have time to make any sound before the light flashed and spread over him as well.

_Three entities have completed the advancement [The End]_

He felt a searing pain in his chest, as though his organs were being driven through a point in his body, doubling over as the light seeped into his eyelids and bathed everything in white. As soon as the moment came, it passed, and he was left hovering alone in the dark night, on the outskirts of L’manburg. He breathed in the cool air.

_Transfer complete._

He took another look at the pretty lights of L’manburg, grounding himself on the sight, drinking in its familiarity. It perfectly matched his memories from when he was alive, and he felt a sense of sad nostalgia.

He froze.

The city shouldn’t match his living memories, because he did not have any happy memories of L’manburg after he was exiled. The wreckage after Wilbur’s explosions had confused him because the city was built around the craters, patched up just a little differently. But the city matched his recollections perfectly. _How on earth was that possible?_

“Wilbur, Wilbur what are we supposed to do now? I can’t believe that bastard chased us out of our own country!”

Ghostbur darted behind some trees, trying not to feel overwhelmed at the voice of his precious, annoying, _recently deceased_ brother. The figures rushed past the brush, and Ghostbur curled tighter, trying to hide his bright yellow sweater from view.

“We don’t have any weapons, any gear not even food. We just have to survive, that’s the first priority.”

The sleeve of a tattered brown coat floated past Ghostbur. Wilbur, in all his glory, stood there in his dirty jacket looking like he was desperately holding himself together. Ghostbur stared at his living version. This was the man who had caused so much pain and suffering.

As the duo climbed through the woods, Ghostbur followed them, trailing behind as they made their way in a half-way hidden poorly dug out dirt hut. Pogtopia.

Ghostbur didn’t know what came over him when he saw Wilbur, couldn’t put it into words even with his poetry and silver tongue. All of his thoughts and theories on the situation collapsed into a single point, and his hearing went fuzzy except for Wilbur and Tommy’s voices, and even that felt far away. All he could see was the brown jacket, that stupid brown jacket that was carried around on his grave before being taken by a lonely boy, that everyone dragged around as if it were as precious as gold. He wanted to burn it to ash, wanted Wilbur to be wearing it as he went up in flames. He picked up a rock and ducked outside of the door.

He gripped the rock and waited for the man to exit the dirt shack. 

As the door swung open, he raised it over his head, ready to bash open the head of the former leader and splatter his brains across the grass.

“I really thought we would win that election, damn.” the voice muttered.

It was just Tommy.

Ghostbur gasped, horrified at what he had nearly done. The rock fell from his hands and he covered his mouth with both hands, hyperventilating. The rock fell to the ground with a loud thud. 

“What was that?!” Tommy glanced around, looking for the source of the noise. In trying to find the noise, he caused even more of a ruckus.

Hearing the racket, Wilbur came outside too. “What are you doing?”

“I swore I heard something out here.”

The man sighed. “Look, I know it’s been a long day for us both” ignoring Tommy’s grumble of “understatement”, the man continued “but you should take a break, there is no use being too paranoid now. You’ll just stress yourself out.” The man was blunt and obviously tired, but his tone was kind.

Ghostbur fled.

“He’s alive, I can’t believe it…He’s alive he’s alive I’m alive.” the ghost laughed. “I nearly killed him, fucking god.”

He must be in the past, he reasoned, if L’manburg had not been blown up and Wilbur was still living. He was in the past, he could change the past. _He could change everything._

Dream must have traveled back too. The voice had mentioned three entities, and he was one, and Dream was the admin that could access the end. Ghostbur blew up the strange portal in his face. Who was the third?

Well, no better time to find out. He wandered through the shadowy corners of L’manburg, seeking out the citizens. Niki was managing her bakery and Jack manifold was constructing his house, nothing out of the normal. Tubbo giddily hopped through the streets, arms full of random supplies. 

Was he this happy the first time we were exiled? _I don’t think it’s Tubbo, there's no reason for him to have ventured into the Nether. I should probably check the rest of the cabinet._ He phased into the white house, looking around for Quackity, Schlatt or Fundy. He only found one, but that was enough.

Schlatt was sitting in a swivel office chair, scribbling madly on a notebook. Ghostbur floated a bit closer, peering at the contents of the journal. Ha could make out words like “Quackity stays” and “withers” and “Logsteadshire”. Well, he knows the identity of the final time traveler now. 

At that moment, Schlatt huffed and dropped his notebook on to his desk, leaning back into his seat. By chance, he looked upwards and met Ghostbur’s eyes. He looked at him in shock, before the shock slowly morphed into joy and excitement. The ram immediately tried to negotiate something with him, a shady glint in his eyes.

“Would you like to make a deal with me?”

He remembered Schlatt entering the server, how he happily greeted him, and how the chaotic man instantly gained an admirer in Tommy. He was glad too, he had wanted to show the ram his new country, had wanted his old friend to be proud of him. He smiled at him and the man smirked back, quipping and teasing with just a bit of bite, flaming a familiar dance and old rivalry. Schlatt told him that he would run for the president of L’manburg and he laughed. 

He didn’t remember anything after the election. _Now why would that be?_

Wilbur realized just what unnerved him so much about Schlatt’s smile. Joy with a selfish flavoring, like Dream had smiled in front of his portal in the rare cases where he removed his mask, like Wilbur in the mirror _in his final days where he held Tommy-_

_He wants to use me._

“Now why would you ask me that? And be honest please” he said, noticing the crafty look Schlatt was sporting.

“If you’re really looking for honesty here, I’m afraid that you’ve come to the wrong place. But just once, I’ll be frank with you loverboy.” Schlatt folded his hands, dropping all pretenses.

“Wilbur Soot is a threat to me and to my power. I hate him.”

“I want him gone.”

 _How interesting_. “And why would you want my cooperation? I’m Wilbur’s ghost, I should be the last person you go to for assistance to destroy him.”

“Aah, but are you really happy with being Wilbur’s memory?” Schlatt grinned smugly, like the cat that had gotten the canary.

Wilbur froze, and the president’s grin widened. _The ram was right on the money,_ Ghostbur thought angrily, _he did not want to be Wilbur_. Wilbur was a bad man who hurt the people around him, who made his little brother cry at night, who cursed his own son to be alone, who abandoned his friends to pursue a path of madness and power. Ghostbur hated him too.

His first thought when he had come back to the past was the find Wilbur Soot and kill him, not that he was telling the smug ram. Plus, on what grounds does Schlatt have to negotiate? The man was grasping at straws for reasons that the ghost should work for him, Ghostbur should be all means despise him. _He thinks I don’t know anything about how he exiled me_. He giggled.

Schlatt frowned. “Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, I just thought it was a little funny.”

“What on earth is funny?”

“How you think you’re the one who has power over me.” Schlatt froze, and Wilbur gave him an innocent smile. “I’m a corporeal ghost, you know? You can’t kill ghosts. If I wanted to, I could haunt you forever. I can make sure that the knives you eat with stab you in the middle of the night, I can look back at you every time you pass a mirror, I can frame you for crimes that I commit. The world around you will twist and warp, but this time not through your own alcoholism, but through me.” The ram gave him an appraising look, far more guarded than before. “Just try it Wilbur, I’ll make sure everyone knows just what you are capable of-“

“Who will believe you?” 

Schlatt stared at him, expression blank.

Who will believe you? A president who claims to be haunted by the ghost of the man he exiled, while said man is still alive? The cabinet will impeach you on grounds of insanity, and all of your efforts to gain power will go to waste! And I will laugh, because if not for you…”

 _That’s right, that’s what you deserve, you made me into such an evil man’s shadow!_ “If not for you, maybe Wilbur would be alive! If not for you, he might have not become such a broken person! If not for you- for him- for me- I would not hurt the people I love, just by existing, I would not exist at all!” He ranted and shrieked as the space around him glitched. Unbeknownst to him, a tattered brown coat flickered on his shoulders, covered in soot and ash and blood. He grabbed Schlatt by the neck, nearly dragging him into the air. “I have nothing left, so you should suffer with me!”

“You sound exactly like the Wilbur you hate right now.”

No. He dropped the ram back into his chair. He was not Wilbur, he was nothing like Wilbur. “Take that back. Wilbur had everything, he had so many people who loved him, and he threw them all away as if they were trash.”

“You have something too, you know.”

“What?”

Schlatt gave him a look that was something like pity, but more understanding. Sympathy. Pity and sympathy from a man like him made Ghostbur’s skin crawl.

“Tommy, Fundy, Tubbo, Niki, and the rest of L’manburg. At this point in time, they are all still alive, you know? They won’t hate you as you are.”

“Are you threatening them?” Ghostbur hissed.

Schlatt let the statement hang in the air for several moments before he deflated with an exhausted hum. “No, I don’t think I can live with myself if they die again. Once was enough.” He gave the ghost a hard stare. “But I may not always be able to save or aid them myself. I’m the president, and my actions will be under more scrutiny, I can’t just lift the exile or jail Wilbur willy-nilly.”

“From what I’ve heard, that did not seem to be a problem for you last time.”

“Yeah and see where that got me.” the ram muttered. He turned back to face the ghost. “I can make decisions that affect all of L’manburg, in a way that you cannot, but I’m also restricted by my position. Don’t get me wrong, I will try my very best to make sure this is a better reality. If one of them dies, then that’s also on you because you are the only other time traveler that I can even think to trust, that knows about the future.”

 _He does not know that Dream is the third time traveler. I could definitely use that to my advantage._ He would work with Schlatt for now and see what Dream plans to do. He does not like the server’s tyrant anymore than his former “friend”, but Tommy’s death could have been an accident, and according to his son he had worked with the man before, even if it was under less than stellar circumstance. If Dream provides a better deal, then Ghostbur could simply switch to helping him instead. Anything to protect Tommy and Fundy and Tubbo. “So what do you propose for me to do?”

“I want you to be my spy.” The ram held out his hand.

Wilbur would never have taken Schlatt’s hand, but Ghostbur was not Wilbur Soot.

“I accept.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ghostbur does not really know the extent of what Dream did to Tommy, and also really really hates his living self. RIP Alivebur, hehe. Also, guys, I plan on making serious use of the tag "heavy angst" in the far future. be warned. Now that we've seen Schlatt's actions and Wilbur's desires, there's only one left. :)
> 
> Next POV: Dream making plans, vaguely confused Dream Team.


	5. Flowers blooming in my flesh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had 4 Mock AP exams in the last week or so, A competition with a whole book I haven't read, and a class that I have a C in cause the teacher sucks, and guess what I did lol. Also, the most recent stream, it was s o a n g s t y christ. 
> 
> POV: Dream plans.

“Really, this seems a bit like overkill to me.”

Dream looked over his shoulder at his future prisoner. The prisoner wasn’t really worried but then again he didn’t expect him to be. He let the man catch up and slung an arm over his shoulder. “You’ll see the need for my “overkill” in time.”

“Ooh, so ominous. Consider me interested.” He kept up with Dream effortlessly as he led them on precarious cliffs, through an intricate series of nether and overworld portals. “Why would we use a base that’s so far from the spawn point? 

“In the future, the spawn becomes too corrupted. It’s probably not the best idea to stay there.”

They made their way to a stronghold in a far, unexplored corner of the world. They swam into the Stronghold together, and Dream used his admin abilities to block off the “eye spy” achievement messages from showing up on everyone’s communicators. It took a lot of time to do and was frankly kind of a hassle, but in this case, definitely worth it. The white metal doors closed behind them, and Dream led them into the depths of the winding halls.

“But as the admin, wouldn’t it be easy to get rid of the corruption? I thought if you really had Their help-”

“I do have Their help. Dream.XD is the one who said I should return, They taught me how to build the portal.”

The prisoner seemed to hesitate. “Are you sure that it’s only Them? I’m not sure how comfortable I am with this, it’s not necessary to take complete control of the server-”

“My server.”

“What?” For the first time, the prisoner sounded apprehensive, “You actually-!” He drew an axe and leveled it at Dream. “Where are you taking me?”

“Nowhere else actually. This is as far as you will go.” He summoned his own sword.

Dream used the sword and blocked the sword from hitting from his right. He summoned a shield and blocked a kick from his left. The man ran back, tearing out a strength potion and putting it to his lips. Dream shot an arrow from a crossbow, shattering the flask. He went on the offensive, swinging his sword and targeting the joints in the prisoner’s armor. The prisoner dodged and blocked all his attacks, but Dream ushered forward, steadily gaining ground, crowding him into the corner of the stronghold. They matched each other blow for blow, slowly stalling as the prisoner grew faster and more desperate.

“Just give up! I have the advantage!” Dream pushed his sword down, forcing the other man to slowly step backward.

The prisoner panted, pushing back on his sword. “I don’t know, we seem to be evenly matched here!”

“That’s not the advantage I was talking about.”

The prisoner felt a moment of dizziness pass over him, as the red flower Dream had placed on his shoulder bloomed. His knees buckled and Dream took the opportunity to ram the butt of his sword in his face. There was a loud crack. Dream grabbed him by the neck.

“There are several things you have to learn about this server if you truly want control.”

He pulled out a sleeping potion and forced his mouth open.

“Don’t trust anyone.”

The prisoner went limp, and Dream let out a breath of relief. He quickly stripped him of all his items and bound his limbs together. Strongholds have many durable cells and would be an excellent place to hide a prisoner and to bide some time. Sam would build the impenetrable Pandora’s vault again, and when that is finally finished, he would be able to keep all the problematic people under his thumb. _I should commission him immediately, the sooner the better._

There were several people that could pose a significant problem to him, but the first was taken care of and the others aren't involved yet. He could worry about them later. He could relax for a bit. Well, time to see if he can pass the test. He was going to visit his closest “friends”. 

_These so-called friends, they all left me. We all agreed to be there for each other until the very end, yet still…_

_“Do you really hate me that much?” Tears fell behind dark glasses, but the king’s voice remained even. He was only a pawn, he shouldn’t expect to be loved._

_Even so…_

_I won’t make the same mistake again._

Sapnap and George were hanging around the community house, chatting and joking around together. The familiar scene made him feel a little bitter but happy, but he violently suppressed the feeling. _Control yourself, don’t care about them, they will betray you._ A fake smile graced his lips as he raised his familiar emotional masks along with his physical porcelain one.

“Oh, Geooooorge!”

George laughed as he tackled him from behind. The colorblind man took the chance and messed up his hair. “Hello, Dream!”

He tucked his chin over the shorter man’s hair, despite the shorter man’s complaints. “So Sapnappy, what are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, we are just taking a break. George is building a new house off the edge of Manburg so we spent most of the day gathering supplies.”

“You could’ve just asked me guys, I’m absolutely stacked with everything you could need for construction.”

“Sure you are”, George grinned, “But I could build a tiny mushroom house on my own, there’s no need to pay for all my stuff. Although I don’t really mind when you do, in fact, feel free to do all my work for me, I insist-”

“Of course Gogy, all you have to do is call me and I will appear like a knight in shining netherite, here to collect all the resources while you go off somewhere to sleep.”

Sapnap elbowed him. “Simp.”

“By the way, George, about the election. Why did you participate? we aren’t even part of the country.”

“Dream, you complained about not having any influence over that election. Frankly, I don’t care about what is going on in Manburg, I only joined as a petty way to get back at Wilbur. it was fine. I didn’t expect Quackity to win or anything.”

Dream felt relief. George didn’t plan to abandon him from the very start, it was only a coincidence that he was involved in L’manburg’s affairs.

“I’m glad. It would be weird if you suddenly decided to go and like that country.”

“Just because I’m European doesn’t mean I have bad taste. I’m not _Wilbur._ ” George quipped.

“Damn, you didn’t have to commit genocide. Just cause they might be stupid-” Sapnap shut up.

Dream wheezed. “No follow-up. Love that.” He stood up and bruised off some dust from his person. “Gogie, Sap, I was wondering if you could answer a difficult question, one of life’s great mysteries, a subject of much research-”

“Oh my god, just get on with it.”

“Notice anything different about me?”

They stared at him for a few minutes. “Your hair has gotten longer?” George offered tentatively.

“...is that it?”

“Dude, you’re the exact same as usual.” Sapnap gave him a flat look. “I bet that you didn’t even change anything. You only asked us that question so we would spend like ten minutes ogling you.”

“Only you would think that, Susnap.”

“Hey!”

“Plus, we literally roomed together as kids. If anyone should get the right to stare at my ass, it would be George.”

“What are you implying about me?! Me and my poor eyes! I deserve monetary compensation for having to look at your stick adolescent self.”

George doubled over laughing, lifting his glasses to wipe his eyes as Sapnap continued to protest. Dream’s smile became a little more real. _They look so much happier and lighter_. The thought crashed over him like a bucket of ice water. He shouldn’t care about them. They were disposable pieces, he can’t get attached.

“I-I have to go. I’ll come back later, don’t wait for me.”

“Dream, what wrong?”

Dream was too far gone to hear. 

_I can’t get sucked up by the past._ He has to take control of the people before they form a resistance against him, before the butcher army rises or the egg corrupts the server and the world begins to decay.

He had yet to figure out who the other time travelers were, but it was unlikely that they would be able to change the future so quickly. He was still the most powerful man on the server. He still had control. _There are others that could have an advantage over me. That is unacceptable._

The fact that other people on the server had time traveled made Dream angry. He had prepared for quite a while, following Dream.XD’s intricate instructions to build a portal that can send a man through the dimension of time itself. Despite all the instances where the portal failed to work as intended, dripping with blue goop, he had fixed it each time he came back. And still, something had gone wrong. He returned in his body from the future, along with two others, and even ended up taking the corruption back with him, though the latter ended up serving him well. 

He pulled out a bow and targeted passing animals in the forest as a way to blow off steam. The animals stood no chance, and a Dream managed a perfect shot with each creature he aimed at, yet he still felt rather unsettled at the whole situation. He slowly wandered back to a familiar camp, noticing the faint glow of the ravine.

 _I know how I'll calm down_. Manipulating Pogtopia would certainly give him a feeling of power and control. He grabbed on the railing and flipped in front of the two exiles.

Wilbur and Tommy both stared at him in shock. He felt some pleasure by just how thrown off they seemed. “Hello Wilbur.”

Tommy exploded first. “So you’re the one who’s been stalking us all this time! I knew it!”

 _Huh?_ “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The ex-president schooled his expression. “What brings you here?”

Dream hopped over, moving a bit too far into his personal space. Wilbur didn’t so much as flinch. “Oh, I just heard some interesting news. He shifted from foot to foot. “Is it true that your own friend kicked you out from your own country, which you had given lives to found? And the citizens had helped to shoot you down?”

Wilbur’s mouth tightened. “I don’t see how any of this is your business.”

“Oh, how could this not be my business? We had fought, and though I may not have said it I thought you would make a good leader. A rival’s intuition, I guess. At any rate, I think you are better than that man”, he bared his teeth into a mocking smile, “that stupid alcoholic lamb doesn’t deserve my respect.”

The ram was a good politician, don’t get him wrong. But he had squandered the precious netherite armor that Dream had granted him the first time around, made a fool of himself, of Dream, before having a heart attack and dying in the stupidest way. It was almost as if in his very death Schlatt worked to spite him.

 _Now Wilbur,_ he thought with glee, _Wilbur was a far better vassal._ All he had to do was leave the man to stew in exile for a few months, and he would sell away all of his friendships and his attachment to L’manburg just to have some revenge, burn all his bridges with ash and dynamite. The man’s manic expression as he watched L’manburg burn was truly lovely. That Wilbur, laughing upon the hill as his own people burned, was someone who he can admire.

“Are you trying to convince me of something?”

Dream lifted both his hands in a pacifying gesture. “No, I just want to help you get your country back. No strings attached.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

He laughed. “You don’t have to believe me.” He swiped Wilbur’s communicator from his jacket, disregarding how the duo bristled from his sudden movement. He inputted his personal number into it and dropped the communicator back in the ex-president’s hand. “If you ever need help, just give me a call. I’m always watching.”

That was a creepy enough parting message. Dream certainly liked to have his fun, and nothing was more fun than watching his enemies- or allies, he supposed he had to call them that now, suffer.

“I don’t trust you. Just because you finally come out after stalking us for hours and make some sort of weirdly friendly deal doesn’t mean Wilbur will listen to you. I know what kind of person you are.”

Tommy leveled a makeshift crossbow at his face. Dream tapped his foot, amused at the attempt to be intimidating.

“Tommy, don’t speak on my behalf.”

The kid looked over in shock. “But Wilbur, you know what he’s done to us-”

“Stand down Tommy.” Whether it was because of the situation, the deal, or his vice, the ex-president did not seem happy. “I will consider your offer if it comes to that. No sooner.”

That was all he needed. “Alright, then good luck. You’ll need it.” Dream vanished into the forest night, leaving the brothers in cold, tense silence.

He lept through the branches, humming a pleasant tune. Wilbur had already started to doubt, it wouldn’t take much more for the man to break. He will take a more active role in pushing the man to the edge instead of just passively watching so that L’manburg could burn all the sooner. _It would be euphoric, to watch the citizens’ faces fall when they see what their president has deteriorated into._

Now for the other concern. He checked the coordinates of his prisoner, and happily noted that they were still on the spot of the stronghold.

“So, you haven’t been able to teleport yet, huh? Don’t you see? Dream.XD has chosen me.”

The prisoner on the other side of the server slammed himself into the rock walls, trying to dislodge the bud on his shoulder. “I’m different from you. They will change their mind.”

“Not with that infection in your code they won’t. Are you starting to hear it yet?” He laughed as the prisoner fell silent. “Does the infection feel good to you? Can you tell that your own body is being corrupted?”

“Leave me alone.”

“No, I don’t think I will. After all, I’m the only person that you can trust. Your friends only use you for power and wealth. No one cares about us, we are already alone.”

“No...” The prisoner moaned. “Stop it.”

Dream’s communication channel clicked off, leaving the prisoner to the voices in his head. The breeze seemed to waver a bit, and the prisoner curled in on himself. The red flower was blooming on his shoulder.

“Shut up, you’re wrong. They’ll figure it out, I know they will.”

“...”

“Shut up shut up Shut Up SHUT UP-”

In the year 1642, a young man sat on a tall pole, overlooking the village which went mad. He swung his legs from his high seat, watching the hidden murderer choose his next victim. Suddenly, the world seemed to shift, and he clutched the pole with a yelp to keep from falling. Confused and alarmed, the young man took out a book with a glowing lime swirl, hurridly flipping through the pages. He paused part ways through the book, stopping on a page that had been scratched over. All of a sudden, several pages had caught on fire. 

The book hit the ground with a loud slap, waking the villagers and changing the course of history ever so slightly with the flap of a butterfly’s wings.

Far away in a Hypixel arena, a half-enderman boy paused in his looting. He turned around, trying to look for the voice he had just heard. Seeing nobody, he shook off a feeling of unease and went back to stocking his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo and Karl Jacobs have a cameo! They will be very important in the future.
> 
> Next POV: Schlatt does his job


End file.
